Shackles
by DVApples
Summary: Set a couple of days after S5 Episode 1; Contains Spoilers... Brennan and Booth were held captive and are both badly injured. Is their time up? Brennan does a lot of thinking during her captivity. Rated M for Violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N -- This is my first try at writing Bones Fiction, or any fan fiction for that matter. Previously I had stuck to fictional characters created in my head.  
Thank you to Di, Jane and ScienceGeek2587 for your thoughts and opinions. Extra thanks for taking the time to Beta for me. **

**I hope you like it! Please read and review - good or bad, I can handle the criticism! **

_Disclaimer-- I don't own Bones or any of the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment purposes. Bones is owned by Fox and it's affiliates. _

************

Brennan sat on the floor, her bent legs pulled against her chest, her head resting on her knees.

_So much has changed since Booth's Coma,_ she thought.

Their first case had been awkward, filled with tension – one she just wanted to forget.

The case itself was an 'office day' type of case.

It was the non-case elements of those days that were circling her thoughts refusing to be silenced. The most prominent being Booth's declaration.  
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought – irrational she knew, but she felt it all the same.

When Booth had uttered "I love you", the rational part of her was thinking, _Love is transcendent and emotional,_ but deep down, the young-girl-turned-woman was coming to life – wanting so badly to have someone love her, accept her and never leave her.

THAT part of her had been ready to admit the truth that she had known for some time, but had been unwilling to acknowledge it or allow herself the luxury of believing herself worthy of it.

Temperance Brennan was in Love

With Him

Special Agent Seeley Booth

But stunned as she was, no words had came out.

Then when Booth followed that heart-stopping statement with "In a professional Atta-girl kind of way", that girl-turned-woman shrank back down, subdued once more.

Seeing the expectant look on Booth's face, she had uttered the first thing she could, "Right back at you Booth. I Love you too! Atta Boy". All the while thinking, _I AM obviously unworthy_.

She had not believed that psychic either – how could she trust a bunch of pictures painted onto cardboard pieces?  
Hard facts, irrefutable Science – that was her belief.

However she had no explanation for the fact that the psychic knew of her pregnancy – a pregnancy that was only in her book and Booth's coma dream. It just did not make sense and as a scientist it still baffled her. That and the statement the psychic made before leaving at the end of the case, "Sometimes you have to settle for second best. My cards tell me that all this works out eventually." She had even badgered Booth into an explanation and all he would say was "I've always told you Bones. Everything happens eventually."

Clank!

Brennan shrank back against the wall, pulling at the chains that held her feet to her wrists– wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from her attempts to escape. She ignored the pain that shot through her arms at the motion, instead concentrating on the rational way to deal with her captor. Attempts on her part to rationalize her release to him had, so far, been met with stoic silence.

A crack of light suddenly appeared at Brennan's toes, causing her heart to skip for an entirely different reason – this one totally adrenaline based.

The crack slowly became larger, travelling up her legs and stomach to end on her eyes, requiring Brennan to duck her head – her eyes struggling to handle the light after the pitch black darkness. Forcing her eyes to adjust she noticed her watch out the corner of her eye. A splinter of light shone upon the face of it. _Oh my god. Had it really been that long? This is not good. Booth will not be pleased._

Brennan wondered if Booth had actually received the text message she had managed to send before being captured from the ships control room – or Bridge as the Navy calls it.

Brennan did not really believe in faith, but, she believed in Booth, and his ability to rescue her every time.

Brennan could hear her captor moving around; could feel the air brush her cheek every time they passed by her. Judging by the footsteps, heavy and uneven, she deduced the person was male.

The clinking and scrunching noises led Brennan to decide it was a tray of food that was being prepared.

Brennan knew she would not be eating today._ I can not guarantee the food has not been tampered with._

She shook off the hunger pains and decided to push one more time for an answer;

"Why am I here?" Brennan demanded, lifting her head slightly to help her eyes adjust quicker.

Silence.

_Temperance, think rationally._

"My partner is an FBI Special Agent, and he will not hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later, without any consideration to your cause or the reason you kidnapped and held me hostage. In conclusion it would be beneficial to you and your cause to let me go."

Silence.

Brennan closed her eyes and prepared herself for an assault from her captor as she heard his footsteps stop directly beside her. She could feel his breath near her cheek. He had knelt down. Suddenly her eyes sprung open and glistened with sudden tears as her hair was yanked from behind forcing her to cry out for a split second, then the feeling of his breath just near her ear as her captor leaned closer.

Brennan blinked her eyes rapidly, feeling better as they had now adjusted to the bright light from the doorway. Inwardly she hoped to also rid her eyes of moisture so as not to give her captor any more satisfaction by seeing tears in them.

She tried to turn her head to look at her captor only to find her head forcibly swiveled back towards the light. A hand on her jaw, and another still holding her hair kept her head victim to her captor.

She felt a large blast of hot air to her ear as her captor sighed then spoke.

_Definitely male, _she concluded.

His voice, gravelly and high-strung, was enough to send chills down her spine.

"Oh yes… Dr Temperance Brennan… World-renowned anthropologist; top selling author… a fine gift to present to—Oh what do we have here…?"

As Brennan felt his hand travel down the side of her body, her natural instinct was to slap his hand away, get up and put him on the floor with a series of karate moves. She had to rein in those instincts. She forced her body to relax, unwilling to let him feel the effect he had on her.

His hand reached into her pocket, pulling out the now illuminated mobile phone.

_I really should have turned that off..._

"Interesting, as to your last sent message Dr Brennan. All will be revealed shortly."

Brennan resisted the urge to snatch back the phone and check to see if the message had indeed gone through and, more importantly, if she had received anything back.

BANG!

BANG!

Her captor started to chuckle, "Oh, oh. You stay here my pretty; I think the big bad FBI agent is awake and angry…" and with a final tug on her hair, released it and stalked to the door. "Oh, and don't bother trying to yell for Agent Booth – he won't hear you. You are all alone Dr. Brennan… or shall I call you Bones..." Then with a resounding clunk and scrape of the lock being activated, he was gone.

As he was leaving Brennan noticed he was of a slim build and had light long hair. She was frustratingly unable to ascertain more details due to the light creating a silhouette only.

Brennan felt physically sick at the thought of this person having Booth.

_Arrrgh! Booth is my partner and I can't do anything to help him!_ She wondered if Booth had been captured after receiving her message and coming after her.

Her stomach turning at the thought of the drugs needed to knock out a large, physically fit man like Booth and, more worryingly, if they would have any effect on his recent brain operation.

Brennan made up her mind.

While her captor was busy with Booth, although she had yet to see proof that it actually was Booth, Brennan was going to find any means necessary to get free.

Vaguely she remembered what Booth had taught her about picking locks. She had her hair tied back today with the few errant strands being secured by some pins.

_Pins she could use to try and pick the lock!_

Grateful for something to occupy her thoughts, rather than dwelling on Booth possibly being chained like her, she set about trying the pins as fast as she could.

CHINK!

_Yes! Success! _

Pulling the shackles off her ankles, Brennan made quick work of the ones around her wrists as well. Standing up, she could feel the weight of the shackles literally fall away.

Brennan had to think of a plan, and fast.

The moans and shouts were fading away as Brennan crept towards the door to gauge if her door was watched or not. Holding the shackles in one hand and her ear pressed up to the door, she gave a short sharp pull on the shackles and dropped them on the floor.

The small section of the door opened.

A curse-like was spoken _'Vittu!'_– A language Brennan had no knowledge in.

CLANK!

Brennan's body subconsciously took on the fighter's stance that comes from years of disciplined karate classes. Her mind cleared automatically. Primary goal – eliminate the threat.

The door swung open, causing Brennan to breathe in to avoid being squashed behind the door.

Brennan tensed as she heard footsteps enter the room, a beam of light flickering here and there as the holder of the torch searched for her. Suddenly they cried out – _'Hän on poissa! Löytää Hänet!'_

The light beam went dark; footsteps started closing in on where she is hiding.

The door swung away from her and the beam was suddenly flashed in her direction.

Temporarily blinded by the light she kicked towards the source, triumphant when her foot connected with hard flesh.

Brennan heard the pained groan and saw the beam stumble backwards – enough room for her to slip out and run towards the door.

Brennan fell as her foot was gripped and pulled down. She kicked her other foot down parallel to the captured one – hitting what she presumed was a face – judging by the exclamation from her target. She got up and ran towards the open door, adrenaline pumping through her body.

Brennan grabbed the door and swung it shut behind her, pulling the latch across to lock it and trapping whom she presumed to be the captor in the room.

As she took off around the corner, she could hear her Captor banging on the door hatch.  
Satisfied she had taken care of the threat, she started towards the other end of the ship and possibly Booth.

_There._

Brennan headed towards the moans, anticipating her reunion with Booth.

She rounded the corner into what looked like the ship's galley, searching for the source of the moans, not wanting them to be Booth. Seeing the large, walk-in fridge door ajar, she dashed over, pulling the door wide - her heart pounding.

Stunned, she stumbled backwards.

_I can't breathe… _

_Booth…_

Brennan struggled to breathe as she took in the fridge contents; from the blood on the floor leading to the source – Booth's head, to the still form of Booth, to the fake moans coming from the figure standing beside Booth.

Brennan looked down and took in the crimson stain now spreading across her shirtfront and looked back up at the female figure. At the gun in her hand that had just shot her.

She would recognize Booth's weapon anywhere.

Brennan collapsed onto the floor, watching the shooter wipe the gun and place it in Booth's still fingers, then walk out laughing.

Struggling against the pain in her middle, she tried to formulate a plan to show the authorities Booth himself, did not discharge his weapon at her. She did not want Parker to remember Booth that way. She couldn't think clearly and it was frustrating her – the pain was excruciating.

As Brennan lay there feeling the coldness seeping throughout her body, thoughts were running rampant in her mind. _If only I had told all those I care about that I do believe in love and that it wasn't transcendent - it was real and I consider all those people my family._

Brennan remembered that missed opportunity she had had to tell Booth her real feelings. All those other chances she had had flashed through her mind like a movie clip, ending with the feeling she had experienced when Booth had held her and told her "I got you, baby".

She berated herself for not seeing that the clues in this case had been staring them in the face two days earlier. _Looking back now how did I miss them?_ She recalled the odd feeling she had at the start of this case, somewhat similar to Booth's 'gut instinct' - one feeling she should have listened to.

Brennan looked over towards Booth, noting his still body. Many times she had guarded her heart against hurt, but this time she couldn't – didn't want to – stop the feeling that her heart was shredding apart.

_Oh, Booth…_

It had all started with Booth's early morning phone call two days earlier…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- Thanks for the excellent reviews! I apologise that this chapter was a long time coming, I had a bit of real life stuff to contend with.**

**This chapter actually goes back to the start of the case, I am trialling a different way of writing. Please tell me what you think. Similar to a 'Swordfish' type - nearly the ending first, then the full story..**

**Thanks to Jane and Leah for reading over this for me - you guys are awesome!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Bones, just love writing them.**

* * *

Ring! Ring!

Brennan leaned over and grabbed her cell phone, torn between wanting whoever it was to go away so she could sleep a few more hours and curiosity as to the nature of a call at 3AM.

"Brennan," she answered, her voice husky with sleep.

"Bones! Wakey wakey, I got you some bones! We only have 20hrs so we need to get a move on or we lose our crime scene," Booths voice sounded entirely too cheerful for this time of the morning.

"Fine, Booth. I will be out the front waiting in 10 minutes," Brennan grumbled. She hung up the phone, curiosity about the timeframe making her move faster. _What is going to happen in 20hrs?_

A few moments later she came to a conclusion - today was going to be different, from the coffeepot still cold minutes after switching it on, to the cryptic phone call from Booth a few minutes ago.

Having just enough time to grab an instant coffee - _ugh -_ and a granola bar to stop Booth griping at her for not eating, Brennan headed out the door to wait for Booth.

With only a small duffel bag packed with essentials, Brennan stood waiting, somewhat impatiently, sipping her dreadful coffee, thinking of how in the past she would have been too stubborn to wait for anyone.

*************

"Come on lights, who else is going to be around at 3AM for Christ sake," Booth swore, looking at the clock. He was meant to drop Parker off at school this morning, but due to this case, had to drop him at Rebecca's a minute ago. She had not been happy and his ears were still ringing with the reasons as to why she was glad she was no longer with an FBI Agent.

_I wonder if Bones thinks of my job as a reason not to get close to me,_ Booth thought as he rounded the corner into Bones' street.

Ah, there she was, looking beautiful as always.

Funny, he expected her to be tapping her foot or at the very least checking her watch.

"Hey Bones," Booth greeted her, after pulling up to the curb, opening her door and watching her climb in.

Nothing

_Oh oh,_ he thought, _what have I done?_ "Bones, what's the matter?" he asked, turning to her.

She looked at him, knowing he was waiting for an answer, but unable to voice the one going through her mind at the moment. "Nothing, Booth. I was just thinking about the case, that's all."

Booth looked at her. Having known her for 5 years, he knew when she had something work related on her mind or something personal. That look was personal. But hey, if she didn't want to share, he can't make her. It did hurt a bit though, that she wouldn't confide in him.

Settling back in his seat, flipping the indicator on and pulling away from the curb, he tried to concentrate on the drive to the crime scene.

*****************

Brennan looked at Booth across the deck of the ship.

"Booth, how will we lose our crime scene in 20hrs? A ship does not disintegrate."

"This is a Norwegian Ship, Bones. The bones are on Norwegian 'soil'. The FBI has less than 20hrs to prove these bones belong to an American Citizen or we lose jurisdiction."

Brennan was confused. "What makes us think it is American?"

Booth flipped to a page in his notepad, "An undercover agent was reported missing approximately 18 months ago, after failing to report to his supervisor. Last known location was a meeting with a Norwegian informer."

Bending down to the bones, Brennan got to work, calling out early indicators of the victim - sex, race, approximate age. She preferred to give Booth as much information as she could to start his investigation.

Booth watched her examining the bones, the first lights of predawn casting a soft glow on her face. So engrossed was she in her examination, she would never know that he often took his fill of her this way. He knew she wouldn't catch him.

Seeing her near the end of her examination, he took a step back and switched into FBI mode - the picture of her in this sunrise pushed to the back of his mind for later.

"So, Bones," he said, lifting his arm to indicate the remains. "Back to the Jeffersonian?"

"Of course, Booth," she mumbled, not looking up. Leaning over, she picked up an odd object lying underneath the pelvic bone.

"What's that?" said Booth, looking at the object in her hands.

"I won't know until Hodgins takes a look at it," she stated in that matter-of-fact way he loved. "It looks to be some sort of odd shaped medal or trinket of sorts."

Booth watched her bag the item, stand up and walk away. Making a conscious effort not to stare at her retreating form, he followed at a slower pace while scribbling in his notepad.

***************

"So, Bones. What do we have so far?" Booth asked, pacing the width of the lab, well aware of the time limit.

"About the same we had when you asked 45 seconds ago Booth," Brennan answered, no censure in her voice, "Male, late twenties, early thirties, Caucasian. We haven't established cause of death yet. Angela is still trying to match the dental records."

She knew he was under enormous pressure to get this case solved, but you can't rush the evidence. That's how mistakes are made. That's how people are hurt.

Glancing over at Cam she pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on the evidence. That odd talisman she had found at the scene was still present in her thoughts though.

_Whatever this case was, it was not going to be a simple one. That __much__ she could tell._

Booth was frustrated and he knew it was wrong to push, but he needed answers and he needed them now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint of light pass across the railing of the platform. Looking up his heart stopped.

"BONES! GET DOWN" he yelled, running towards her.

He heard the window smash as the bullet from the steel gun passed through it. He saw the next part as if watching a slow motion movie.

Brennan looking up at him, confused. Her head turning towards the sound of the smashed glass, comprehension dawning on her face at the sight before her eyes.

Booth reached for her and pushed her down, spreading his body over the top of her, trying to shield every part of her. He felt the bullet as it went past his head, whipping through the ends of his hair.

He lay there, perfectly still, listening.

Nothing.

Glancing around the bench and up towards the origin of the gunshot, his eyes hurt from the bare glare of the sun through the broken glass. Searching the rest of the windows he saw nothing.

"Bones! You okay?" he asked urgently, getting off her and helping her up. "Bones!"

"I'm fine, Booth. Other than a scratch on my arm, I am unhurt," she stated, then turned back to the body on the bench and resumed her work as if nothing had happened. Her ability to compartmentalize was an enigma to him sometimes.

"Booth!"

He spun around, his body moving before he could process the thought in his brain. Brennan was right behind him. Reaching the railing, he looked down. The scene before him had him racing down the platform steps, his phone out and calling emergency, each ring grating on his nerves harder and harder.

"Come on, come on! Pick up the damn line!" His voice was firm, no trace of the tremors he felt racing through his body.

He raced over, taking in Hodgins stunned look as he stood watching, Cam's figure prone over the body on the floor.

Dropping to his knees, he took the cloth from Cam, pushing it onto the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood seeping out and trickling across the floor. He could feel Cam as she put both hands on his, her voice urging the Ambulance to hurry. A barely whispered sentence had his head snapping up.

He felt rage as he watched the emotions play across the face of one of those dear to him.

Leaning closer he put his ear to their lips, trying to hear the message intended for him.

With the words ringing in his ear, he lifted his head and barked at Cam, "Hold pressure for me, I'm not waiting for the ambulance, they can meet us on the road." Gingerly holding this precious life in his hands, he walked towards the doors. Stopping just shy of them, he turned to Bones, "Bones, I need you to stay here and find out everything that body has to tell us. This was obviously part of it. We will get the son of a bitch."

Brennan watched as the doors closed behind him. She had heard those whispered words and knew Booth would be hearing them over and over in his head, their passionate plea driving him to get federal on anyone in his way.

"Uncle Seeley.....help..me..please...."

* * *

**Please review. I would love to hear your opinions!! Thanks for reading!**


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